


Our Love is God.

by JaredsBathbombs



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: I DON'T WANT TO TRIGGER ANYONE, I Had To, I could never, I'm going to put a rape/non-con tag, I'm sorry Jeremy, Other, Please Forgive me, Yandere AU, Yandere Michael, but I'll never write a full scene like that, but just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:09:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12833979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaredsBathbombs/pseuds/JaredsBathbombs
Summary: “Close your eyes,” Michael commanded. Jeremy watched him for a second before he complied. “Now, this is more of a - keep them closed, Jeremy. So impatient.”There was something different about Michael’s tone, Jeremy realized. Something more mysterious. Something more...dangerous…? Jeremy shifted nervously in his seat before Michael continued talking.“This is more of a physical game,” Michael said, his voice sounding farther away.Jeremy let out a huff of laughter, “Like, twister or something?”“No, no,” his voice was closer now, right in front of Jeremy, and the nervousness settled back into Jeremy’s stomach again. A hand was suddenly gripping onto his face, tilting his head to the side. “Such a pretty face.”





	1. Chapter One

    It had all started normally. Michael and Jeremy had plans to play video games until dawn and pig out on junk food. Jeremy never expected it to become so...crazy.

    He got to Michael’s house a few minutes after five pm.

    “Hi, Jer!” Michael said, grinning widely as he let the taller boy into his house.

    “Hi? Why are you so excited?” Jeremy asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow at his friend.

    “I got a new game!” Michael bounced up and down excitedly on his heels, fingers drumming against his jeans.

    “What is it?”

    “You’ll see! We’ve gotta finish level thirteen of Apocalypse of the Damned, first.”

    Before Jeremy could say anything, Michael turned and went downstairs. Jeremy blinked then closed the front door and followed his friend.

    They played Apocalypse of the Damned for hours. Aggravation clearly coloring their features. Until finally,finally, the level cleared card appeared on the screen.

    “Yes!” Jeremy said, throwing a fist in the air. Michael let out a cheer of triumph. They each leaned back in their beanbag chairs, quietly basking in their victory. After a moment Jeremy spoke. “What was the new game you wanted to play?” Michael sat up straight, turning his head to look at Jeremy.

    “Oh, that?” Michael turned off the television. “It’s a surprise.”

    Jeremy smiled, confused, as Michael stood and stretched.

    “Close your eyes,” Michael commanded. Jeremy watched him for a second before he complied. “Now, this is more of a - keep them closed, Jeremy. So impatient.”

    There was something different about Michael’s tone, Jeremy realized. Something more mysterious. Something more...dangerous…? Jeremy shifted nervously in his seat before Michael continued talking.

    “This is more of a physical game,” Michael said, his voice sounding farther away.

    Jeremy let out a huff of laughter, “Like, twister or something?”

    “No, no,” his voice was closer now, right in front of Jeremy, and the nervousness settled back into Jeremy’s stomach again. A hand was suddenly gripping onto his face, tilting his head to the side. “Such a pretty face.”

    “Wha-” Jeremy lifted an eyelid.

    “Eyes closed, Jer,” Michael said, a hint of aggravation in his voice, his fingers tightening around his jaw. Jeremy quickly shut his eyes again.

    “Michael,” Jeremy squeaked out timidly, “You’re scaring me.”

    “Nonononono,” Michael let out quickly, his voice sounding more pleading now. “Don’t be scared. You have no reason to fear me.” This still wasn’t Michael. Michael wouldn’t sound so… sickeningly-sweet as this voice did.

    “Michael, I don’t like this game,” Jeremy said. “Can we stop now.”

    “No. No! We can’t stop - I swear, if you keep opening your eyes I’ll make you keep them closed!” Michael was angry now, his fingers were gripping onto Jeremy’s face unbearably tightly. Jeremy was sure that they were forming bruises. He heard a familiar ringtone fill the room and then Michael’s clothes ruffling as he moved around, letting go of Jeremy’s face. “Christine,” he said in a low voice. Jeremy’s eyes flew open. Michael had Jeremy’s phone in his hand, staring at the screen with dark, angry eyes. “Why’s she texting you?”

    “We - we’re supposed to - to practise our lines together tomorrow. She - she said she would text me a time and pla - place,” Jeremy tightly wrapped his arms around himself, shaking nervously. “Michael, wh - what-”

    “I don’t want you near her, Jeremy,” Michael said, tossing down Jeremy’s phone and moving to hover over the pale boy. “You’re mine,” Michael pressed their lips together.

    Jeremy broke away for a second, “Mich-ael?!” he squeaked, voice breaking and nearing hysteria. Michael gripped the back of Jeremy’s head and violently smashed their lips together again. Jeremy struggled against Michael, managing to draw his lips away, feeling Michael grip his shoulders.

    “It’s okay. It’s okay!” Michael said.

    Jeremy continued struggling, pounding his fists against the other boy. Michael gripped onto his wrists, pinning them together and pressing them against his own abdomen, where Jeremy felt...abs?

    “I’ve been waiting for this,” Michael said, “To make you mine. I’ve been training. Going to the gym.” Jeremy continued to wriggle in Michael’s arms, his feet pushing against the ground, lifting his hips and briefly pressing up against Michael. His eyes widened tearily at the hardness he found there.

    “Please don’t do this, Michael,” Jeremy said as Michael pinned his legs with his own. Jeremy focused on his hands, trying to twist his wrist out of Michael’s grip. It was only when he felt lips on his neck that he was able to wrench his right hand free and deliver a hard punch to Michael’s face. Michael leaned back, releasing Jeremy’s hand and pressing his hand against his face. He pulled it back and found blood from his lip there. Jeremy scrabbled away, hurrying to his feet and backing up to the stairs. Michael looked up at him, grinning madly.

    “How exciting.”

    Jeremy turned and bolted up the stairs wrenching the basement door open before running out and slamming it shut behind him, hurrying to the front door. Michael’s harrowing laugh echoed through the house. Jeremy gripped onto the doorknob. A few more seconds and he’d be free. He’d - the door wouldn’t open. It remained shut.

    “No. Nonononono,” Jeremy’s voice quivered as he saw the locks on the door. The locks that would only open with a key.

    “Jeremy,” Michael’s faint, sing-song voice called out. “Where’d you go, Jeremy?”

    Jeremy shook as he ran into the kitchen, looking around wildly before grabbing a knife and crawling into the cabinet below the sink, barely fitting. He shut the cabinet door and pressed his hand against his mouth, trying to silence his erratic breaths.

    “Remember that ‘bathroom break’ that I took in the middle of our gaming sesh?” Michael called out, “I guess you realize what I was doing then.”

    Jeremy shook his head lightly, remembering Michael’s longer-than-usual trip to the bathroom. He had used the upstairs bathroom. Meaning that must have been when he put locks on the windows and doors. The upstairs one… The upstairs one. Jeremy’s eyes widened. That means there would only be locks on the upstair exits. The basement window would have to be his escape.

    “Jeremy!” Michael screamed angrily, and Jeremy heard something shattering. His heart pounded in his chest at the sudden outburst. “Come out now, before you make me seriously angry,” he said the last two words through clenched teeth. Jeremy heard footsteps on stairs. Going up. To the second story, Jeremy reasoned. He waited a couple seconds before leaving the cupboard and hurrying back to the basement door. He slipped down the stairs, his heart pounding so loudly he could barely hear anything else. He stumbled down the last three stairs before glancing around and snatching his phone up off of the ground. Moonlight flooded in through the basement window - his saving grace - sending in an oddly peaceful glow to illuminate the area. Jeremy was startled from his thoughts when he heard doors slamming upstairs. Michael was back on the floor level, Jeremy noted, and hurried to the window, dragging over a chair. He climbed up onto it and unlatched the window, pushing it open. He turned when he heard the basement door crash open.

“JEREMY!” Michael was unbelievably pissed. Jeremy turned and lifted himself up, barely managing to squeeze through the small hole. He was almost there. Almost out. But then there was a hand clawing at his ankle, trying to drag him back. Jeremy kicked out, feeling himself being pulled back in an inch or two.

“No! NOO!” Jeremy kicked harder, his foot connecting with Michael’s face, sending the other boy staggering backwards and onto the basement floor.

And Jeremy ran. Legs barely able to keep him up.

“You’ll be back!” Michael said in a voice that reminding him horrible of Jason Dean from Heathers. “If you tell anyone I’ll kill her! I’ll kill Christine!” 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy returns to school.

   Jeremy didn’t know what kept him from telling anyone. He was mostly sure that Christine would be fine as long as he told someone right away without giving Michael a reason to suspect that anyone knew about their night. But there was a horrible feeling holding him back. What if Michael did find out? Jeremy couldn’t hold Christine’s life in his hands.

    So when he got home, instead of waking his father and telling him about, he curled himself into a shaking ball under a thick blanket and cried himself to sleep.

    He ignored all the calls from Michael throughout the next two days. He opened the texts, though. They were all terribly similar and sent shivers up his spine. At first it was just a ‘reminder’ that Jeremy belonged to Michael. Then texts saying what Michael wanted to do to him. Some were sexual, some were violent. A couple said that he would lock Jeremy away and keep him forever. After these Michael would get angry and tell him to answer his calls and texts. A minute later he would apologize, saying that he shouldn’t treat his ‘precious’ like that. Then the loop started over.

    Jeremy had been right. Bruises that slightly resembled fingers wrapped around his jawline. His father had obviously saw it but hadn’t said anything. Jeremy was thankful for that. He wouldn’t have known what to say. What would have made a bruise like that on his face? Jeremy couldn’t think of anything and was hoping no one at school mentioned it.

    Monday morning was torture for Jeremy. During the car ride to school he nervously clutched his bag to his chest, his leg tapping continuously.

    “Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeremy’s father asked when he pulled up to the school.

    “Yeah, dad, I’m fine. I just have a big test today,” Jeremy lied, dragging his thumb over his knuckles, attempting to sooth himself.

    “Alright. Good luck. I’ll see you later.”

    “Okay,” Jeremy got out of the car, “thanks, dad.” Jeremy shut the car door and hurried inside, head down, and having already spotted Michael’s PT Cruiser in the parking lot.

    He saw the first one right when he opened his locker. A piece of orange paper, neatly folded, laid there. Jeremy opened it hesitantly.

    ‘How’s my beautiful baby boy today?’ it said in Michael’s surprisingly girlish handwriting, ‘I’m a little angry that you’ve been ignoring my calls all weekend. Don’t worry, though, you’ll talk to me today. Love, Michael’. Jeremy crushed it into the back of his locker, quickly grabbing his books for first period and slamming his locker door shut.

    Throughout the first periods of the day Jeremy felt himself getting more and more on edge. The slightest noise startled him and he sat rigid-backed through all his classes. He kept trying to convince himself that Michael wouldn’t be able to get to him while he was in class but he always jumped whenever the classroom door opened, or a chair squeaked when a student slid it against the floor. It wasn’t good for his heart, Jeremy realized, but there was nothing that brought him any comfort.

    It was when lunch rolled around that Jeremy was truly at a loss of what to do. He didn’t want to go to the cafeteria for fear of having to face Michael. His other friends would be suspicious, though, if he ditched lunch. But it might be worth it. Then again, if Michael realized that Jeremy had ditched and went to find him he risked being alone with him. This way Jeremy was at least in the presence of witnesses. Michael couldn’t do anything to him. So Jeremy timidly talked to lunch, like a dog with his tail between his legs. He was relieved when we saw everyone but Michael already sitting at their lunch table. His stomach dropped, however, when he realized that every was saving two seats. One for himself and one for Michael. Right next to each other. As Jeremy made his way other to sit a hand was suddenly pressed into his back and hot breath was whispering at his ear.

    “There you are, Jeremy,” Michael said, his words curling softly, “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

    Jeremy’s whole body went rigid and he froze. He was too scared to say anything.

    “Let’s go sit down, Jer,” Michael pushed harder against his back, spurring Jeremy into stumbling towards the table. Michael took a seat next to Rich, leaving Jeremy with the seat next to Michael and the end of the table. He slowly sat down, not bothering to got through the paper bag which contained his lunch - he suddenly found himself with a harsh lack of appetite. He placed his hands in between his thighs, pressing his legs together to try to get his shaking to cease.

    “Are you okay, Jeremy?” Christine asked and suddenly everyone was looking at him. “You look a little pale.”

    “Uhm, yeah,” Jeremy cringed at the rough quality of his voice and cleared his throat a bit, “I just, uh, didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I’ve had a headache for a couple hours now.”

    “Do you want me to get you some pain medicine? I have some in my locker,” Christine stood up.

    “I’ll go with you, then,” Jeremy said in an urgent voice, moving to stand up. Michael’s hand suddenly gripped his thigh, painfully squeezing his fingers around Jeremy’s leg.

    “I think Jer should stay here if he’s not feeling too well,” Michael said.

    “Don’t worry about it, Jeremy. You don’t have to move. I’ll be back in a bit,” Christine said and Jenna was up on her feet taking Jeremy’s place in their escape to Christine’s locker.

   Jeremy felt dread in his head. He never thought of Michael like this. He had never been scared of him before. Now he was terrified. Michael had always been there for him. He had always been… nice. This was too new to Jeremy. Too… overwhelming.

   Michael moved his chair over a bit, until his thigh was pressed against Jeremy’s, and leaned into Jeremy’s ear.

   “I don’t want you alone with her,” he hissed, “You’re  _mine_. And you would do well to remember that.” When Jeremy said nothing he prompted him in a voice that one would often hear when a parent was trying to teach their child manners. “Yes, Michael”.

   “Yes, Michael,” Jeremy said shakily.

   “Good,” this word was emphasized with a painful squeeze to Jeremy’s thigh.

   This is how Jeremy’s week went by. The notes in his locker multiplied quickly. There was a wall of colored paper sitting in the back of his locker. A constant reminder that Michael was always there.

   “Are you and Michael fighting or something?” Jeremy’s father asked awkwardly Thursday evening.

   “No, why would you ask that?” Jeremy lied, his fingers pulling at the seams of his jeans - a nervous habit he had developed over years of social anxiety and mental breakdowns.

   His father looked away, not very good at things that might involve feelings. “It’s just that Michael usually spends a lot of time here and he hasn’t been here once this week, so I thought that maybe you two weren’t getting along. But it’s good to know that you are.”

   “Yeah,” Jeremy paused, not knowing what to say.

   “Because his mother asked me if we would mind him staying here over the weekend.”

   “What?” Jeremy tried his best not to squeak.

   “His parents are going out of town and they don’t want him alone, so I said he could stay here. So he’s bringing you home tomorrow and he’s staying the weekend.”

   “Okay. We’ll probably just play video games the entire time,” Jeremy lied, trying his best to take on the tone of voice he would use before he knew what Michael’s twisted intentions were.

   The next day Jeremy was worse off than the earlier days of the week. He was constantly shaking, his hands shoved in his pockets to stop it from being so obvious.

   Michael was quick to find Jeremy after school that day. He placed his hand on his hip and Jeremy tensed. Jeremy thought briefly that this was how they always were. Michael would always greet him like this. A hand on his shoulder, waist, or back. He had never thought of it before. Hadn’t really noticed it before, to be honest, but now there was a malicious intent in each action, and the fact that Jeremy could never figure out where Michael’s mind was at was terribly frightening. Michael was grinning, but it was mischievous and plotting.

   “Are you ready for an awesome weekend, Player One?” Michael said, “I brought, like, fifteen video games.”

   For a moment Jeremy was reminded of the old Michael. The glimmer in the other boy’s eyes was so much like the one Michael would get when they were about to play a new video game. Jeremy suddenly found himself yearning for his best friend. The nice one. The one that didn’t scare him with threats. The one that didn’t scream about killing their friend. He was convinced that that Michael and the now Michael were two different people. Something had happened. Something had stolen away his best friend and he just wanted to be held in the gentle arms of his lost friend. But that was impossible now. And the dread that filled his stomach was a weight that reminded him that the Michael he had known was someone he would never see again. As Michael dragged Jeremy to his car Jeremy was unable to stop the mourning sob from leaving his lips and cease the erratic shaking of his shoulders.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy tells.

    Jeremy quickly learned that Michael had no intention of letting Jeremy leave his side. The only time he let him out of his sight was when either of them was in the bathroom, though, when Jeremy was the one using the restroom he always waiting right outside the door. It was only Friday night and he was finding it very stifling.

    “Who are you texting?” Michael asked, making Jeremy jump at the sudden sound. He was quick to press the screen of his phone against his chest.

    “No one,” he said, shifting his eyes nervously away from the other boy, who was perched on the edge of Jeremy’s bed.

    “You can’t lie to me, Jeremy,” Michael said, “Come here.” His tone was harsh and commanding and Jeremy was too scared to see what would happen if he didn’t obey, so he stood and timidly walked to stand in front of the other boy, fidgeting with his fingers on the hand that tightly gripped his phone. Michael took the phone from him and looked through it, eyes flashing with anger. “Not texting anyone?”

    “I-I mean, I-”

    Michael gripped his wrists and pulled him down so he was talking right into his ear. “Don’t even  _think_ about lying to me again,” he hissed, and dragged him into a harsh kiss. Jeremy’s eyes were clenched shut, trying his hardest to keep his lips closed and unmoving. This, however, only served to fire up Michael more. He growled in aggravation and bit down on Jeremy’s bottom lip. Jeremy whimpered pitifully as a tongue thrust its way into his mouth. After a moment Michael pulled away, eyes flooded with lust. His arms moved to rest his hands on Jeremy’s ass and Jeremy panicked, pushing desperately against Michael’s chest.

    “I-I-I’m tired. Can w-we just sleep now?”

    Michael nodded, running his thumb over the skin under Jeremy’s loose shirt, then allowing the other boy to lay on the bed. Jeremy moved as far as he could against the wall, trying to keep as much distance as possible between himself and Michael. Jeremy shut his eyes, waiting for the sound of the flick of the light switch before letting himself open them again. He wriggled himself further under the blanket and waiting for his eyes to adjust before looking at Michael’s figure through the darkness. He was sitting against the headboard, watching the other boy as he laid there. It took a few minutes for Michael to lay down, placing a hand on Jeremy’s waist and dragging him closer to his own body. Jeremy froze, head pressed awkwardly against Michael’s chest.

    “Whose are you, Jer?” Michael asked.

    Jeremy remained silent.

    “Answer me, Jeremy,” Michael demanded, digging his fingers into Jeremy’s hip.

    “Y-yours,” Jeremy squeaked out.

    Michael had been doing this a lot recently. Whenever he asked him a question and he didn’t answer right away he would tighten his fingers around whatever part of Jeremy he was holding and tell him to give him an answer. This always ended with new bruises over Jeremy’s body. Jeremy shook his head lightly and shut his eyes tight, having a hard time sleeping.

    This is how his entire weekend went. It was horrible. He just wanted to be free of this Michael. He wanted to stop being scared long enough to tell someone what was happening. But he couldn’t trust himself to do that. What if Michael found out? He would hurt Christine.

    His troubles seemed to fade, though, and a light hope clouded his mind and made him giddy when he came up with a plan. Which he would enact on Monday.

    So Monday’s lunch rolled around he bought Michael a second slushie. Michael blinked in surprise, sending a light, thankfully gentle, squeeze to his thigh, before removing his hand and accepting the drink. Fifteen minutes after the first slushie was safely in Michael’s stomach and he had about a quarter left of the second he gave Jeremy a conflicted glance. He stood up abruptly.

    “I have to pee. I’ll be back,” he said, before sending Jeremy another look and hurrying off.

    “Alright, Jeremy, what’s going on with you?” Christine asked and everyone’s eyes were on him.

    He blinked, confused that he didn’t have to bring it up himself.

    “How did you…?”

    “Oh, please, Jeremy,” Jake said, mouth half-full with a bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich, “Something’s been up with you for the past week. Is something wrong with you and Michael?”

    Jeremy looked at everyone before bursting into sobs.

    “Jeremy?!” Brooke asked, leaning across the table to place her hand over Jeremy’s.

    “It’s Michael. He’s crazy.”

    “What?” Rich asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

    “Last weekend I was at his house and he...attacked me? He was kissing me, and holding me down. He wouldn’t let go. He chased me upstairs and when I got away he was screaming. He said...he said…”

    “What did he say, Jeremy?” Christine asked softly.

    He looked up at her, eyes wide and teary, “he said he was going to kill you if I told anyone.”

    No one knew what to say to that, apparently, because everyone was shocked into silence.

    Jake was the first to speak. “Has he...has he been hurting you?”

    Jeremy nodded. “The bruises on my face last week were from him. There’s a lot of bruises on my thighs. And-” he pulled the edge of his shirt over his shoulder to reveal the ugly, finger-shaped bruises there, “-my shoulders.” He righted his shirt.

    The girls suddenly resumed what they would normally do during lunch.

    “He’s coming back,” Christine hissed. Jake and Rich continued comparing their biceps as Michael sat down.

    “What did I miss?” he asked, his hand falling back on Jeremy’s thigh. Jeremy flinched.

    “Well,” Christine said, leaning in conspiratorially, her acting skills not failing in the least as she confidently lied to him, “We’ve been talking about Hamlet’s schizophrenic actions and trying to decide whether it would be responsible to label him as crazy.”

   Michael leaned away, already losing interest in the topic. “Uh-huh,” he said.

   “Yup! So anyways, I think…”

   Christine was the one to call him that night, already having everyone else on the line - a giant group call.

   “You need to tell someone,” Chloe said.

   “But what if he was serious? He’ll kill Christine,” he said.

   “Listen, Jeremy. I’ll be fine. Right now what’s important is your safety,” Christine said.

   “But what about your safety?” Jeremy was hysterical now.

   “Snap out of it, Jer!” Jake said, “Michael can’t take both me and Rich. We’ll be there. Just tell us when you’re going to tell someone - the police, preferably - and we’ll be there to help you out. She’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

   Jeremy was silent for a long moment before sighing. “Okay. I’ll try. Before I tell anyone I’m going to stand up to him first. Maybe that will snap him out of this...whatever it is.”

   “I don’t know, Jeremy. I don’t think Michael can be trusted right now,” Jenna said, “Maybe there’s a chance he can be reasoned with but don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

   Jeremy nodded, then realized that no one could see him and answered, “Okay. I’ll be careful. I promise. Thanks guys.”

   There was a chorus of ‘you’re welcome’s and ‘no problem’s before they all said their goodbyes and the line went dead.

   Jeremy curled up into a small ball on his bed - a habit he had taken up after that first dreadful night - and fell asleep for the first time in four nights without being completely tense.

   The hallway was empty when he did it. Well, empty except for himself and Michael. Michael was leaning against the wall by his locker, talking about a new video game. The pile of little letters Michael had been getting him was increasing by large increments and they were becoming more and more threatening. The latest one being, “I hope you haven’t told anyone of our little encounter last weekend. That would end up being very unpleasant for you”, and then a violent description of what he would do to him if he had told anyone. It was all evidence, he knew, and he shoved handfuls of the pile into his backpack at a time as Michael continued talking.

   “You should come over tonight,” Michael said.

   “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Jeremy said, closing his locker and beginning to walk away from Michael.

   “You can’t keep running away from me, Jeremy!” Michael yelled. And Jeremy ignored him in a bout of irrational courage. Michael ran to catch up with him, grabbing onto his elbow and flipping him around to face him.

   “Yeah, and why not, Michael?! Can’t you see I’m scared of you? I don’t want to be around you. I hate you!” Jeremy wrenched himself out of Michael’s grasp, staggering away a good five feet, and continued yelling, “I fucking hate you! You’re not the Michael that’s been my best friend for twelve years! You sure as hell aren’t him."

   "But, but I  _love_ you, Jeremy. You're  _mine._ I would never hurt you!"

   "Don't you understand?! You already have! Get the hell away from me. Don’t talk to me. Leave me alone!” And Jeremy stormed off, though it looked more like a waddled retreat than anything else. Jeremy wasn’t able to see the grin stretching itself across Michael’s lips or hear his whispered words.

   “I love a good chase.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, warning, there is a bit of content in this chapter. Some violence. Implied rape. Just beware.

    He heard him before he saw him. To be fair, the room was pitch black, so there was a very slim chance that he would see anything at all. He had woken up with a light start and had looked around, confused as to what pulled him from consciousness. The window curtains were open. He supposed he hadn’t closed them before going to bed. It must had been the moon shining through the window that woke him. His legs slowly carried him to the window, drawing the curtains shut. They were so darkly hued that they efficiently shut out the moonlight. Jeremy stumbled back to bed, curling himself into his blankets warmly. Then suddenly there was a voice.

“Poor Jeremy,” it said.

He immediately recognised it. Michael. He shot up into a sitting position, pressing himself against the corner of his bed made by the wall and the headboard.

“Poor you and your lost best friend,” he mocked.

“M-Michael, stop,” Jeremy said, drawing back as far away as he could.

“I tried to tell you,” he said, “you’re mine. How many times do I have to tell you?” The voice was closer and a voice was suddenly gripping onto his forearms and dragging him forward.

“STOP IT, MICHAEL!” Jeremy screeched, writhing against the other boy’s grip. He was pressed onto his back and swung his fist out, but then he was flipped onto his stomach, Michael’s hand forcing his head against the mattress and his other hand twisting his arm painfully and pinning it behind his back.

“Screaming won’t help you,” Michael said, “we both know your dad is at a baseball game right now.”

“H-how the hell do you know that?”

“It was written on the calendar. I saw it when I stayed over this weekend,” Michael was pressing himself against Jeremy’s back, taking large inhales of his scent.

“Get OFF!” Jeremy yelled.

“You have to be punished, Jeremy,” Michael said, “You have to learn to LISTEN to me. No, no. You can’t just listen. You have to obey.”

Jeremy continued wriggling his body helplessly, finding leverage as he pushed up with his legs. Michael groaned, pressing his hips down.

“Fuck, Jer,” Michael moaned out.

“Are you getting off on me struggling?” he received another groan in response. “You’re a fucking psycho.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say, Jeremy. I think you need to be taught a lesson.”

Jeremy put all his weight into flipping him over onto his back, throwing his fists at Michael’s face. One swift punch from Michael and Jeremy was knocked unconscious.

When he awoke his hands were tied. He had no idea where he was. He sat up slowly, bringing his tied hands up to his head and groaning. He opened his eyes and saw Michael sitting in a chair by a door. The room was small and untidy. He had never been here before. The floors and walls were made of wooden planks and a slightly alarming image of a run-down shack in the woods ran through his head before he shook it away. It was more than likely that this was actually were he was. He had seen all the horror movies. Lots of them involved some kind of shabby wooden building in the middle of nowhere and if that was truly where he was now, he had no idea how to go about trying to get away. The door was sealed tightly and didn’t offer the smallest beam of light to him. There was a small window a few feet above the bed he was laid on and it revealed to him that it was still dark out. There was a long table along the wall opposite of the door, but it wasn’t bright enough to make out the objects on it. He rested his gaze back on Michael.

“Where are we?” Jeremy asked.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here. With me,” Michael’s tone was giddy, and he sent Jeremy a light grin. “We can live happily ever after, Jeremy. Wouldn’t you like that? Isn’t that better than trying to fight me?”

“Anything’s better than here,” Jeremy spat.

Anger flashed through Michael’s eyes and he was suddenly standing over Jeremy, face intimidating. “You’ll learn to like it,” he said curtly, through his teeth. He shot out his hand, grabbing onto Jeremy’s face, tilting it from side to side, examining it. “It’s such a nice bruise I made. I want to maim you more. I want to make it obvious who you belong to.” Michael dropped his face and walked to the other side of the small room, moving things around on the table, snatching up two objects and made his way over to the bed. Jeremy was flipped onto his stomach and Michael’s hands dragged the waist of his pajama pants down an inch or so.

“What are you doing?” Jeremy asked, scared as to what twisted thoughts might be going through Michael at that moment.

“If you move it’ll hurt more.”

“What?!” Jeremy tried to turn his head to look at him, but Michael slammed his head back onto the mattress. Michael was straddling his thighs, keeping his lower body from moving. There was a sudden sound that Jeremy suspiciously recognized as flowing gas, recognizing it as the same sound he heard coming from a bunsen burner in chemistry class. His heart rate picked up its pace and Jeremy’s breathing was shallow as he felt the panic attack begin. “Nonononono, Michael! What are you doing?! Please don’t do this! I can’t bear-”.

“Shh, sh-sh-sh-sh-sh, it’ll be over soon, baby,” Michael said, voice softening and sounding terrifyingly soothing. The gas noise stopped and a small clank resounded as Michael carefully set one of the objects down. A hand gripped onto his own tied ones and Michael pushed them away, out of his way.

Jeremy whimpered, “What are you - AHHHHHH!!” His screaming was blood-curdling and to anyone else their entire body would fill with dread at the sound, the pain-filled noise would cause anyone’s heart to break. Not to Michael, however. To Michael, this sent him a great joy of satisfaction. It joyed him greatly to feel Jeremy screaming and writhing because of this pain. The pain was searing and burning. Jeremy screamed as he felt and smelt his flesh burn. Tears poured down Jeremy’s face as his body was wracked with sobs. Jeremy hardly realized that Michael had gotten off of him, moving to drop the piece of metal and fire torch back onto the table. Michael turned to look at Jeremy’s jolting form as he dropped the metal into a bucket of water, a slight sizzle following his actions.

“Please stop, please stop,” Jeremy muttered over and over again, sobs never ceasing and he turned onto his side furthest from the burn. “What did you do to me?”

“I marked you as mine,” Michael said simply and pulled the metal out of the water, showing it to Jeremy. Jeremy struggled to look at it through his teary vision. It just made the tears fall faster. It was an ‘M’. “Do you like it? I made it myself”. Jeremy continued to cry. “It’s alright, Jeremy,” Michael said in a voice that one would use to console a child with a scraped knee. Michael brought a bag over and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Jeremy over to lay on his stomach once more. “I need to dress it or it’s going to get infected.” Michael uncapped a bottle of water and poured it over the fresh wound. The pain subsided while the water ran, but returned once the bottle was empty. His sobs had turned into quiet, hiccup-like, bursts. Once he had dressed the wound he was gone, leaving his hands tied and the door locked. Jeremy, however, didn’t even explore his surroundings. He laid on the bed, crying, eventually finding himself able to fall asleep, tears staining his face.

The next day wasn’t any better. As soon as Jeremy had woken up, Michael was examining him, searching for somewhere new to hurt, eventually pulling off the boy’s pants and feeling along his thighs. He talked as he stared down at the X-acto knife in his hand.

“Your dad called me yesterday,” Michael said absentmindedly, “he said you were gone when he went to check on you yesterday morning. He’s been calling everyone. Nobody’s seen you, of course.” Michael laughed at that. “You’re all mine.” He suddenly dug the knife into Jeremy’s skin, dragging it along. Jeremy screamed as much as he could. Michael continued to drag the knife through his skin, Jeremy’s screams eventually dying out to a faint cries, his vocal cords not able to make much noise. Michael eventually leaned away from his work and pulled Jeremy into a sitting position. “Look,” he said excitedly, as if he was proudly showing Jeremy a piece of artwork. On his left thigh it read ‘MICHAEL’S’ in large, cynical handwriting. On his right thigh there were long cuts, all unorderly. All red and sensitive. All painful. Michael took out his phone and took pictures of them, smiling in content. Jeremy shook his head pitifully, leaning against the headboard. Michael followed, stroking Jeremy’s cheek with his hand and nuzzling his face against Jeremy’s neck, tossing his phone onto the table. His lips pressed against Jeremy’s skin, sucking harshly. Jeremy sat there, slumped, eyes glazed over in resignation. “Do you want me to stay?” Michael asked, pressing himself closer to Jeremy. Jeremy didn’t respond. He remained where he was, staring off at nothing, vision unfocused. “Fuck, Jeremy.”

The next twenty minutes were a blur. Jeremy put up no resistance, only able to lay there, head tilted to the side, staring blankly at the wall as Michael violated him. He felt dirty the entire time. Dirty and disgusting. When it was over and Michael pulled out and away from him he curled up on himself, tears streaming down his face. He found himself unable to form sobs, his throat too raw from screaming to make hardly any sound at all.

“I have to go, baby boy,” Michael said, running his hand over Jeremy’s neck, squeezing lightly, pulling a sputtering cough from Jeremy that made his throat burn even more. Michael stood and moved away, grabbing his backpack from the table and leaving, locking the door behind him. A moment later Jeremy turned over, struggling to see through the semi-darkness. His breath hitched and he wrenched himself up, hope running through his veins as his eyes landed on the phone that still laid on the table. Jeremy pulled himself to the table, leaning heavily against it as he snatched it up, turning on the screen and unlocking it, thankful that Michael hadn’t changed his password since the last time. He fumbled with it, fingers shaking and weak as he dialed a number.

“Hello? Michael?” a sad-sounding voice asked.

“Dad,” Jeremy choked out, voice barely recognizable. A clattering sound came from the other end of the line.

“Jeremy?!” his father asked, hysterical, “Where are you?”

“I think I’m in the woods. Track this call, please. Dad, I’m so scared. I-”

He was cut off by the door slamming open. Jeremy staggered around, still clutching the phone to his ear. Michael looked at him wildly, breath heavy.

“NO! JEREMY, HANG UP THE PHONE!”

“Jeremy?!” his father yelled. Michael snatched the phone from him, ending the call and turned to Jeremy with fiery anger and desperation in his eyes.

“What the _fuck_ have you done, Jeremy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor Jeremy.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

    “What the  _fuck_  have you done, Jeremy?” Michael threw the phone down and advanced towards Jeremy, who stumbled backwards, legs horribly painful because of the new open wounds. Michael pulled back his arm and then back forward, punching him hard in the stomach. Jeremy doubled over, leaning against Michael for support, and coughed. He clutched at Michael’s hoodie, wishing that it was the old Michael he was holding onto. “Get your pants on. We’re leaving.” He let Jeremy fall to the floor and pushed him with his foot, urging him towards the bed. Jeremy dragged his way over, shakily pulling on his boxers and then pajama pants. For god sake, hurry up.” Jeremy tried to move faster, but each movement felt like it was ripping apart his skin. Michael growled in aggravation before wrenching Jeremy off of his feet and carrying him out of the building. A storage shed, Jeremy could see now. They were surrounded by trees. He was suddenly in the passenger seat of the familiar PT Cruiser. He leaned against the window, trying to stop his everything from shaking. Michael pulled himself into the driver’s seat and threw a bag at him. “Clean up your face. And put this on,” he pulled a jacket and pair of shoes from the backseat and put it in Jeremy’s lap. “You’re not presentable.” Michael started the car and sped along. Jeremy opened the bag, pulling out a water bottle and a rag. He poured some water on the rag then wiped his face with it, then did the same to his arms. He struggled to put on the jacket and shoes for a minute before he leaned back in the seat and pressed up against the window again. Michael was silent, staring angrily at the road, not once looking at Jeremy. Jeremy was terrified. Would Michael hurt him again once they got to their next location? Where would that even be? He just wanted to go home. He wanted his dad. Jeremy let his eyes droop shut.

    They had been driving for a good three hours when the car jerked to a stop. Jeremy opened his eyes, looking around. They were at a gas station along the side of a road. There were no other buildings in sight. That wasn’t a good sign for him.

    “Get out,” Michael said, already moving to get out of the car. When Jeremy didn’t move Michael muttered angrily. “For fuck’s sake,” and leaned over to undo Jeremy’s seatbelt. “I said, get out,” he hissed out. “Don’t leave my sight.” Jeremy stood beside Michael as he put gas in the car. “Stand up straight.” Jeremy struggled to straighten out his back, and his body jolted every-so-often from the strain of the effort. “Follow me.” Michael turned to walk into the gas station convenience store. Jeremy followed behind him. There was a muscular man sitting behind the counter. He looked to be in his late thirties and had a beard. He didn’t look up from the catalogue he was reading when they walked in. Jeremy stood in front of the first row of products while Michael moved to get whatever he needed. A minute later the man looked up at him.

    “Hey, kid,” he asked quietly, sending a short glance at Michael, “Come here.” Jeremy blinked before slowly walking over, thighs aching. “You’re that kid from the news, aren’t you? The one that’s been kidnapped. There was a picture of you on the television half an hour ago.” Jeremy looked around and saw the television screen in the corner of the ceiling, displaying the latest news. “Jonathon or something?”

    Jeremy opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off.

    “Jeremy, we’re leaving,” Michael said dangerously, sending a wild look at the man behind the counter.

    “I-I-” Jeremy tried to speak but it was just scratches.

    Michael grabbed onto his arm. “Now,” he said and began to drag him away.

    “Hey, wait!” the man was fast and soon blocked the door.

    “Get out of my way,” Michael growled.

The man threw a punch at Michael, hitting him square in the face and knocking him out. He then grabbed the phone behind the counter and punched in three numbers. Jeremy shook where he stood, looking at Michael lying on the ground. He sank down and sat by his head, running his fingers through his friend’s hair as he absent-mindedly listened to the man talking to the police on the phone.

“Thank you,” Jeremy said as loudly as he could when he man put the phone down.

“No problem. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?”

Jeremy shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you change your mind, just tell me. The name’s Al, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Your voice sounds like shit.”

Jeremy blushed before nodding in acknowledgment.

It took fifteen minutes for the police to show up. A blanket was placed around Jeremy’s shoulders and tried to tell them as much as he could before his throat hurt too much. While he was having his injuries looked at he spoke again.

“What’ll happen to Michael?” he asked.

“His mental state will be evaluated. If it’s stable enough he’ll be put in jail. If it’s not, he’ll be put into a mental ward.”

Jeremy nodded, burrowing himself into the blanket.

An hour and a half later he was reunited with his dad.

“Jeremy,” he said, rushing to his son and dragging him into a tight hug. Jeremy sobbed. Overwhelmed with the fact that it was finally over. “Where is he?” his dad growled out.

“They brought him into the back room to talk to him,” Al said and stuck out his hand, “I’m Al.”

Mr. Heere shook his hand. “Are you the one who found him?” Al nodded, “Thank you so much.” He thanked him non-stop for the next half-hour before helping Jeremy into his car and driving them back home. “I’m sorry,” he eventually said.

“For what?” Jeremy choked out.

“For not noticing that something was up between you two. Some of your other friends, Rich and Christine, came over and tried to tell me you were having trouble with Michael, but I didn’t believe them. You’ve been best friends for the past twelve years. I thought they were imagining things.”

“Dad. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You’re my  _son_. I should have known.”

“No. I should have told you.”

“Jeremy, you did nothing wrong.”

“And neither did you!”

Mr. Heere sighed. “You shouldn't talk for a while. Give your vocal chords a chance to heal.”

Jeremy nodded and leaned his head against the window.

It was two weeks later when he finally said it.

“I want to talk to Michael,” Jeremy said at breakfast. His father set his spoon down.

“I don’t know,” he began.

“I need some closure, dad. I have to make sure that there’s no chance old Michael is in there.”

His dad thought for a moment before he nodded. “Fine. Friday. You can see him then. I’ll call the hospital.”

He was at lunch later that day with the rest of his friend group. They had all been frantic the entire time Jeremy was missing.

“Guys, I’ve been lying to you,” Jeremy said. They all looked at him, confused.

“What do you mean?” Christine asked.

“The first day back at school, when you asked me if he hurt me and I said no. That was a lie.”

“Jeremy,” you don’t have to talk about it if it’s hard for you,” Jake said, placing a consoling hand on his arm.

“No, I need to,” Jeremy took a deep breath, “The first thing he did, he, uhm, branded me. With metal.” he ignored the horrified looks that he got in return, “then he cut his name into my thigh and ripped up the other one.” He paused, bracing himself for the next one. “Then he, uhm...uh…” he looked at the table, “he raped me.” He saw Jake’s fists clench and everyone visibly tense.

“I’ll kill him,” Rich said through clenched teeth.

Jeremy shook his head. “It’s over now. Or, at least, it will be soon.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe asked.

“I’m visiting him in the mental hospital on Friday.”

“Jeremy, are you sure this is a good idea?” Brooke said.

“I know that you all probably think I shouldn’t do this-” this earned him a chorus of nods from the rest of them “-but I just need to talk to him.”

Two days later he was on his way to the mental ward at the hospital. He fiddled idly with the visitor’s badge clipped onto his cardigan and continued following the nurse to the bright room. He spotted Michael in a plush chair by the window, staring out of it, his legs curled up underneath him and his face on his hand. Jeremy stopped walking for a second. The nurse looked back at him.

“Do you want me to tell him you’re here?” she asked.

Jeremy nodded and waited where he was while he went and placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder. She said something and Michael flung his head around, locking eyes with Jeremy and a large grin spreading across his face and his eyes sparkled. It was normal and held no malicious intent and Jeremy was surprised to find him thinking that this looked like his old Michael. Jeremy was taken aback for a second before he walking over and sitting cautiously in the chair across from his. Michael bounced in his chair, tapping his fingers on the edge of the cushion.

“Hi, Jer,” Michael said excitedly.

“Hi, Michael,” Jeremy said, suddenly finding himself at a lose of what to say. “So, uhm...how do you...feel?”

“Oh, uh, to be honest I’m a little confused. I’m not really sure why I’m here,” he said.

Jeremy’s face contorted into one of disgust. “Are you serious? Do you just not think what you did was wrong?”

“I don’t know what I did,” Michael flailed his hands around in emphasis.

“Wait… like… what?”

“Like, Last thing I actually remember is playing video games with you and then I’m here. I mean. I’ve been having blackouts, I just didn’t really know what to do about it.”

Jeremy’s eyes were wide. “Are you serious?”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“So you’re...actually Michael? My Michael? My best friend?” Jeremy asked warily.

Michael raised an eyebrow, “uhm, yeah? I’m pretty sure.”

Jeremy let out a breath before lunging forward and wrapping his arms around Michael’s shoulders.

“So...what did I do?” Michael asked when Jeremy pulled away.

“You kidnapped me,” Jeremy said.

“I  _what_?” Michael looked confused.

“You also threatened to kill Christine,” he said.

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Michael leaned back in his chair, face completely and utterly shocked. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I should pile it onto you all at once,” Jeremy said.

Michael nodded, “But you will tell me? Eventually?”

“Yeah. Of course,” Jeremy said, “I should probably get going, though.”

“You’ll visit a lot, right?” Michael asked, looking nervous for a moment.

“Totally,” he said, sending Michael a wave and smile before leaving the room.

When he left the room he leaned heavily against the wall.

“I’m confused,” he said when the nurse stood next to him.

“Well, in the time that we’ve had him here, it’s become clear that he had some sort of multiple personality disorder. He doesn’t remember anything from when he slips into his other personality.”

“Well, is there some way to get rid of it.”

The nurse shook her head. “We can’t just give him a pill and get rid of it. There are cases where a patient is able to kill off a personality, but it involves spending a lot of time in their own mind and it’s incredibly painful.”

Jeremy frowned. He thanked the nurse for her help and left.

That night as he stared up at the ceiling he thought about his past with Michael, before everything had gone horribly wrong. He remembered moments when Michael had given him a weird look and then shook out of it the next second. Weird phrases he had muttered as he played games and not say anything else about it, like it never actually happened. He eventually drifted off to sleep with hopes of his friend returning to his former self for good running through his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess the rest is up to your imagination.


	6. Chapter No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! This is a picture I've been working on and I finally finished it. It's obviously not the best, but it's the best I can do, so, please enjoy. Or don't. You know. It's up to you. But, yeah...I was too lazy to draw a background other than the blue, but that's OKAAAYYYY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I went on my phone to make sure it showed up there, and when I clicked on the chapter the picture didn't show up, so Imma put in a link.......Okay, another edit: the link doesn't work either, what the hell. Help?? EDIT: YOOO, I THINK I DID IT!!! GIVE ME A SEC EDIT: YOOOOO FUCK, I DID IT. YES. GOD. FINALLY. OKAY, BYE!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is exciting, isn't it?


End file.
